I thought it was about time I gave something of an update on me, and what’s happening with this blog. In the words of the Terminator (and the title of this post), ‘I’ll be back!’ But I hope that news is more welcome to my readers than it would’ve been to those who first heard it from Schwarzenegger in the film.

First, though, an update on me. At long last I am starting to feel a little better, it’s taken a while and been very frustrating. It seems that some of the new stuff going on with my health was undiagnosed diabetes, which was having quite an effect on my kidneys. My sugar levels, which were very high to start off with, are now, after a couple of false starts with medication, coming down to more manageable levels. The associated kidney problems seem to be righting themselves. My normal angina problems did flare up, and I had to go into hospital for a short stay, but that, too, seems to be settling down a bit. I’ve still got something odd going on with my liver, which is still be investigated — I don’t know if that’s going to be put down to the diabetes or not; just have to wait and see with that I guess. Now I just need to get some energy back.

If all goes according to plan, I’m going to Walsingham for five days on Monday. The week will, I hope, do me a lot of good, and help to clarify some thinking. It was booked up quite a while ago, but may be a week or two too early. But we’ll see; I don’t have to make the final decision until Sunday or even Monday.

As for the blog, my current thinking is that I’ll pick things up again from Advent Sunday — the beginning of the liturgical year seems an appropriate time. I’m aiming to start then with my reflections on the Collects, which were always intended to be the main focus on here. I don’t think I’ll be trying to do all that I was doing before, at least not for a while, but probably try to make them more occasional items.

See you soon!

Today’s Collect, for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, seems to want to encourage me to think about my ministry more than I wanted to, and, in some ways, more than last week’s did. I’ve been putting off writing this post and trying to think of a different approach. But I keep coming back to the same phrase, “you know our struggle to serve you”. Sometimes we just have to go with where out thoughts lead us.

I feel as though, every Lent in recent years, I seriously consider whether I should continue with an active Church based ministry. Perhaps Lent is the right time for it, or perhaps it’s just because it’s springtime, the time of new beginnings. And perhaps it’s because I usually seem to find the winter months difficult with my health.

I really wish I could just enjoy my ministry when my health allows, and accept that that isn’t always going to be the case. The first part of that, I’m not too bad at. It’s the second part that is a problem for me. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could have some warning about when things might change; but the nature of my illness means that it’s very volatile, and completely unpredictable. I have real, personal, issues with commitment and reliability, and every time I have to let someone down (though they wouldn’t necessarily see it that way), it tears me up inside. So once again, I’m left wondering if I should be giving things up, as it feels as though I’m constantly fighting a losing battle.

We keep looking at different ways I can exercise a ministry, and be genuinely useful to the Church. But, maybe, that’s where a part of the problem, and part of the answer, is for me. Perhaps I look too much at serving the Church, when I should be looking for ways I can serve God. When I was healthy, the two were probably much closer to being the same; now, that may not be the case.

Perhaps, If I can change the way my thinking works, my struggle to serve God might not be as great. And maybe then, next Lent, my thoughts will be different. But knowing myself as I do, I suspect that this time next year, I’ll be going through all of this again.

Merciful Lord,
you know our struggle to serve you:
when sin spoils our lives
and overshadows our hearts,
come to our aid
and turn us back to you again;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect for The Fourth Sunday of Lent
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Today’s Collect, for the Third Sunday of Lent, always encourages me to think about my own ministry. It encourages me to evaluate where it is, where it’s been, and where it might be going. Of course, the third part of that is the most difficult, and I’m not sure I ever really come up with any answers, but will keep praying, “give us insight to discern your will for us”.

For many years, I’ve strongly believed that where God calls, he also enables. It’s something that has helped me enormously through some bad patches in my ministry. And for years it has been true. Surprisingly, for this incredibly shy person, I have been able to exercise an up-front Church based ministry, something I never thought would be possible.

Preaching has always been a large part of what I felt God was calling me to. Who would have thought that this man who finds it hard to talk to someone one-to-one could possibly preach God’s word to a church full of people? The service I’ve found most fulfilling for my ministry, though, has been Evensong. It’s a much smaller service in terms of congregational numbers: but that adds an intimacy that isn’t present in the larger services, especially as we’re all gathered together in the chancel rather than spread out in the much larger main body of the church. At an Evensong service, I not only get to preach, but also to sing; something that has seemed even more unlikely than preaching. And yet both have been possible because of God’s enabling — what he called me to do, he also enabled.

I still believe that where God calls he also enables. But now I wonder, too, if the obverse of God’s enabling might also be true; ie. where God does not enable, he is not calling. Or more particularly in my case, where he stops enabling. I keep wondering whether my Church based ministry should be brought to a close. My health, which is always very unpredictable, was very bad at the end of last year and the start of this year. As a result, my Church based ministry has been non-existent.

But that is due to change this evening; I’m preaching at our BCP Holy Communion service — it will be the first time in many months. I hope this will give me a good indication of what I might, or might not, manage in the future. If I manage well, I’ll be more confident going forward. If it’s too much for me, maybe I will need to think more carefully about what I should be doing. It will probably be somewhere in the middle of those, though. And I do need to be careful not to set too much store by what happens this evening — it is the first time for a long while. Still, I hope to be given some insight to discern God’s will for me.

Eternal God,
give us insight
to discern your will for us,
to give up what harms us,
and to seek the perfection we are promised
in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect for The Third Sunday of Lent
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Have you ever spent time in the desert? The closest I’ve come to spending time in a physical desert, is when we’ve had occasional water shortages here in England — which are as nothing in comparison to many parts of the world. And neither have I spent time in a physical wilderness. I usually think of the Biblical wilderness as being desert. So the two words, ‘desert’ and ‘wilderness’, have become more-or-less synonymous for me.

I’m sure you’ll have picked up my references to a ‘physical’ desert and ‘physical’ wilderness. I can’t tell you what it’s like to spend time in such a place. But I have had experience of being in a spiritual and emotional wilderness — and can tell you that it isn’t a good place to be.

Some years ago I went through a very deep depression. It was a combination of adjusting to some pretty major and life-changing health issues, and some rare side-effects from tablets being taken. And I go through life now never feeling more than one or two steps away from that pit; especially when I go through one of the all too frequent bad patches with my health.

When I was at my worst, I felt anything but ‘closer’ to God. The overwhelming feeling was one of rejection, that I was unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. But those feelings were coming from the illness, and the medication.

Having come through that time though, I realized that what I had known on an intellectual level about how much God loved me, loves each of us, I now knew in my heart, with my spirit, the absolute certainty of God’s immense love for each and every one of us. It was a different way of knowing. It was an immeasurably closer feeling.

God can, and does, use the bad things that happen to us and bring good from them. I wouldn’t recommend the desert I found myself in as a way of growing; but I can certainly understand the sentiment in this Collect for The First Sunday of Lent. We can grow closer to God in the desert, just as Jesus did.

Heavenly Father,
your Son battled with the powers of darkness,
and grew closer to you in the desert:
help us to use these days to grow in wisdom and prayer
that we may witness to your saving love
in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect for The First Sunday of Lent
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

When faced with difficult challenges, do you find yourself saying, “I can’t”. I have begun to say, “I can’t”, more recently, at least to myself, than I would have done in the past. Here’s a post from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle that might get you, and me, thinking a little differently — hope so anyway.

“I Can’t”

Today, I’d like to propose that using the phrase, “I can’t” is actually contrary to what it means to be human.

Over the millennia of recorded human history, the story (so far) is one of progress or, at least, improvement of the human experience. Each “today” is better than yesterday, and each tomorrow is reflected in today’s hopes and dreams. We are constantly working toward something better. “I can’t” or “We can’t” simply gets in the way.

If we had allowed “I can’t” to get in the way, there would have been no sea trade by the Phoenicians; no Silk Road from Asia Minor to China; no “New World” to discover; no automobile, nor telephone. There would have been no written language, no books, nor any music. You can completely forget space exploration, and the medical and scientific benefits we have received from that. You see, it is simply human nature to say, “I can.”

The history of the human species is a grand illustration of the need to grow, to achieve, to fulfill potential – to be better than before. Indeed, the need to constantly expand our knowledge and experience is uniquely human, as evidenced by the fact that no group of animals, fish or fowl have planned and carried out a mission to the moon or beyond – at least, not one we know of.

So, the next time you react to a challenge by saying, “I can’t,” stop yourself. Think again, embrace all that makes you human, and ask yourself, “What if I could?” Because, you see, you can. Remember: Yesterday’s dreams are today’s realities. Today’s dreams are tomorrow’s opportunities.

Lou Tice
The Pacific Institute

When I read this email from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle, it really made me stop and think. As I said in my first paragraph, I realize that I have been saying, “I can’t”, much more recently. I know a lot of that is because of my health issues, but I think I’ve been letting them prevent me from doing more than they should. There will always, necessarily, be limits; but I need to start pushing against those limits again. By the nature of my health problems, the limits will always be variable, and by pushing against them more I might be able to take advantage more of when the limits are less. My body will soon tell me when I’ve pushed too hard; I need to stop anticipating that so much.

Another great post from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle. His posts are always a great help, and encourage me to think differently about things: If you think you might be helped by reading many more of them, do please consider subscribing for the daily emails yourself.

It isn’t every year that we get to use today’s Collect on a Sunday. We usually see this Collect for the Fifth Sunday before Lent used as weekday Collect for the weekdays following Candlemas until the first of the Sunday’s before Lent. But this year, with Easter falling nearly as late as it possibly can we get to see all five of the possible Sunday’s before Lent. And that in itself presented a problem I’d not come across before, today’s Collect was used on the weekdays following Candlemas, last week, but is also the Collect for the weekdays next week.

In some ways, this Collect would be a good one for New Year, to support people in their new resolutions. So many of us resolve each year to, stop smoking; stop drinking (alcohol); go on a diet; etc etc. And so many of us fail in those resolutions each year.

Of the three mentioned, smoking, drinking, and diet, one is particularly pertinent to me. I used to smoke but stopped some twenty years ago now: not because of a new year resolution, but because my health demanded it. I used to drink quite a lot, but when the children came along I changed my lifestyle completely: now I drink very rarely, and probably enjoy it all the more on those odd occasions when I do have a few beers. Which leaves the last one, diet. One glance at me and you would see that I’m fat!

I could make lots of excuses. I’ve always been big: but that was when I used to run around the rugby field; train regularly with weights; play squash; so there was muscle there which does weigh heavier. My work was always physically demanding; but that meant I needed to eat more calories because I was burning them. Some of the tablets I need to take don’t help matters; which is true, but doesn’t explain the size I am. I could go on, it’s easy to think of excuses; and they all have a ring of truth about them, but they are only excuses.

The reality is, of course, to have got to the size I am, I ate more than my body needed for survival. And to stay at the size I am, I’m still doing it. I know that if I could lose a few (a lot of) pounds I would benefit from it in many ways, not least with my ongoing health problems, and my self-esteem. But knowing that, doesn’t make it any easier to not eat what I don’t need.

So, for me, this week’s Collect is one that I need to pray more often. I need help to turn away from those habits which harm my body (he writes while eating a chocolate biscuit).

God of our salvation,
help us to turn away from those habits which harm our bodies
     and poison our minds
and to choose again your gift of life,
revealed to us in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect for The Fifth Sunday before Lent
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Today’s post is another one of Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. In this one he talks about how our suffering is the same as everybody else, and that of Jesus on the cross, and not separate from it.

How does awareness help us understand suffering?

My resistance to what is happening right now IS my suffering. We must understand this. Our opposition to the present moment comes from what we call ego. The ego is that part of us that wants to be in control, to have its own way.

Jesus’ life is an invitation (“follow me”) to enter into solidarity with the pain of the world, because that is where he went. It is a journey that shows us there is only ONE suffering, which is united in God. My suffering and others’ are not separate. Jesus personified this through his death on the cross. Our suffering is like the suffering of everybody else, and that of Jesus on the cross. That may help us accept the present moment with more awareness and with loving kindness and compassion.

From Jesus and Buddha: Paths to Awakening (CD)

Mantra:
Be still my soul.

I can certainly see something of me in that first paragraph, especially, “The ego is that part of us that wants to be in control, to have its own way”. One of the main reasons I’ve struggled to accept my own health problems is because they take away my control over my life. I always think I’ve been able to get through that, but every time I hit a bad spell I know that I haven’t — I’m still kicking and screaming about lack of control.

One day, with the help of God, I will get through that self-centred ego and learn to “accept the present moment with more awareness and with loving kindness and compassion”.

The email was one of Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. If you would like to subscribe too, and I can recommend them, the website is here: The Center for Action and Contemplation. It won’t cost you anything.

Do you have a philosophy of life? I imagine many of my readers on this blog will have a philosophy that they try to live by; probably many will be be couched in Christian terms. That’s certainly been the case for me. But, in this post from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle, he talks about a much more closely defined philosophy of life — 25 words or less — than many of us will follow.

Philosophy of Life

Do you have a philosophy of life, for yourself? Could you describe your philosophy to someone else, in 25 words or less?

I spent time this past week with my good friend, Pete Carroll. He happens to be an NFL football coach, but that’s not why I mention this. We were talking with a group of business and community leaders, and Pete asked the group to raise their hands, if they had a philosophy of life. Everybody raised their hands. Then he asked them if they could write it down in 25 words or less. Only two hands went up. Surprised? I wasn’t, and neither was Pete.

You see, while each of us probably does have a core philosophy to live by, very few of us could describe it to another person. We don’t take the time to write it down. Words, whether on paper or in an electronic file, put substance to our beliefs. The words provide a touchstone that we can go back to, when life presents us with difficulties.

Our behaviour, every day, is a reflection of our beliefs. It is the way human beings are built. No matter what we might say, it is our actions that reflect our core beliefs, our philosophy of living. Everything that we do flows from this philosophy. If it doesn’t, that is where stress and anxiety can be found.

Now you may ask, “Lou, if I write down my philosophy, what happens if things change, if I change? Do I doggedly follow my ‘philosophy’?” That’s the beauty of writing things down – the words can be crossed out, erased, and re-written! We are all going to change over time, as we learn the lessons that living teaches us.

So, I will ask this again: Do you have a philosophy of life? Can you describe it in 25 words or less? This weekend, I challenge you to find some quiet time for yourself, and to create your own philosophy – and write it down.

Lou Tice
The Pacific Institute

I found this particularly interesting, and, as with so many of the emails from the Winners Circle, very thought provoking. I don’t have a philosophy of life that could be expressed in 25 words or less — it would take far more. And I wonder if it would have helped me in the last week or so if I had, and think it may well have done. I’ve been feeling quite sorry for myself, to put it mildly, since my recent hospital stay. Not sure what I was expecting, some sort of miracle I think, but I didn’t get it. The therapy I’ve started on is going to take some time to adjust to before I really start to feel the benefits, and the tests I underwent didn’t really show anything. So I’m in much the same place as I was before I went in, and I’d built my hopes up too much that I wouldn’t be — so I’ve been feeling sorry for myself.

If I’d had a more tightly defined philosophy of life, one that could be expressed in 25 words or less, and if I really lived that philosophy, perhaps I could have skipped this horrible low spell. Perhaps it’s even time to go right back to a much more basic, and biblical, philosophy to live life by; one that contains just three words. Jesus is Lord! Jesus is Lord, and everything else can flow from that one simple statement. If I could really live that, then I wouldn’t need to feel sorry for myself — because Jesus is Lord of the bad things as well as the good things; and maybe the bad things aren’t really bad at all.

I have a lot of thinking and praying to do about the way my thoughts have gone as I’ve written this post. Thanks Lou, for another great thought provoking post from the Winners Circle. Do consider signing up to receive the daily emails yourself — they’re well worth reading.

How are you managing with the trials of living in today’s world? In this post from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle he talks about the various trials we face in different stage’s of our lives.

I once heard that, “Old age is not for sissies.” The fact is, life itself is not for sissies.

When you think about the trials of old age, it is easy to agree that old age is not for sissies. But you know, every age has its trials. When we’re young, we face difficult decisions about education, career and marriage. We struggle to come to terms with our emotions, hormones, and identity issues.

Later, we agonize over raising our children, gaining financial security, and retirement. Life, if we are living it fully, never ceases to present us with challenges and problems to solve. The secret to successful living is not in finding an easy, carefree existence, but in being adequate for the trials that life brings.

Stanley Jones once said that we don’t break down from overwork, but from “under being.” I agree. Most of us are not given too much to cope with. It’s just that sometimes we feel as if our inner resources are low.

A camping supply company slogan puts it this way: “See us for supplies so you can rough it smoothly.” To rough it smoothly through life, you need to be well equipped, too. You need good values, a good support system of people who care about you, a purpose you believe in strongly, an optimistic spirit, respect for others, and respect for yourself, as well.

Just like a well-supplied camper, if you have these things, it won’t matter much if the weather turns bad where you set up camp. You will come through just fine.

Lou Tice
The Pacific Institute

We all face different trials at the various stages of our lives. Sometimes I imagine we can feel we have to cope with more than our share. With my health the way it is, I must admit I probably feel that way far more than I should. A couple of sentences that spring out for me, though, and I hope they will assist me in the future, are, “Most of us are not given too much to cope with. It’s just that sometimes we feel as if our inner resources are low.”

My inner resources are very low at the moment. I’ve been going through a really bad patch with my health for a couple of months now, and I am really struggling. Various changes that have been made to my medications haven’t worked out as was hoped. And we’re now going back to where I was before Christmas, because the thinking is, now, that the changes we made have possibly triggered, and certainly exacerbated, this bad patch. But it is going to take a while to get things stable again. In amongst all that’s been going on, they have discovered something else that’s wrong. I’ll be going into hospital in early May to, hopefully, get that sorted and start some therapy.

So my inner resources are very low at the moment. But I’m hopeful that, with some help, they will be building up again over the next few weeks. And then, I hope, I will be better equipped to cope with the trials of life. In the mean time, I hope to keep things going as normal on this blog, but I have, now, used all of the posts I’d got in reserve in draft form, so could miss occasionally.

Another great post from Lou Tice at the Winners Circle: one that has reminded me that I’m not the only one facing the trials of life, and to think more positively about things. I always find his post a great help; if you think you would benefit from more, do, please, consider subscribing to the daily emails yourself, it won’t cost you anything.

Today’s post from Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations spoke to me at a very deep level — quite possibly because I have so much pain in my life just now (I’m still having a really tough time with my health at the moment). I’m hopeful for some improvement over the next few weeks though — another change in medication is going on, and some other stuff which is going to mean a hospital stay in early May.

What pain in my life needs God’s love and transformation today?

St. Paul is the great evangelizer because he seldom leaves the message at the level of “believe this fact about Jesus.” He always moves it to “this is what it says about you!” or “this is what it says about history!” Until we are somehow pulled into the equation, we find it hard to invest ourselves in a mere religious belief. Paul teaches “Christ,” which includes us and all of creation, for he never knew Jesus “in the flesh.”

Christ Crucified is all of the hidden, private, tragic pain of history made public and given over to God. Christ Resurrected is all of that private, ungrieved, unnoted suffering received, loved, and transformed by an All-Caring God. How else could we believe in God at all? How else could we have any kind of cosmic hope? How else would we not die of sadness for what humanity has done to itself and to one another?

Jesus is the blueprint, the plan, the pattern revealed in one body and moment of history to reveal the meaning of all of history and each of our lives. The cross is the banner of what we do to one another and to God. The resurrection is the banner of what God does to us in return.

Easter is the announcement of God’s perfect and final victory.

The email was one of Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. If you would like to subscribe too, and I can recommend them, the website is here: The Center for Action and Contemplation. It won’t cost you anything.